Paradigm for Disaster
by Akasha Ravensong
Summary: I can only ask, dear reader, that you do not judge me until you have read this full account of my sordid affairs, and try not to judge me even then. After all, it is not your place to judge.So begins Ginny's Diary.


Paradigm for Disaster  
>By Akasha Ravensong<p>

Summary:

Ginny has made many choices in her life that may not always have been the best for her in the long run, but she refuses to repent. She loves a certain platinum blonde even knowing that they can probably never be together, never be more then clandestine lovers. But the Heart wants what the heart wants. GW/DM, Cannon, but not DH epilogue Compliant.

Disclaimer:

It's not my story, I make no money from this, I just get to play with this world that JK Rowling has created and enjoy.

Rated: M – Trust me it will be fairly obvious why within this first chapter.

Chapter One: Dear Reader

Dear Reader:

I feel compelled beyond reason to write my most deeply held secrets down upon this paper, but I want nobody reading this diary without my permission. I value my privacy. I feel as if I might have absorbed some of Mad-Eyes Moody's manic habits as I have ventured down into muggle London to obtain this journal and have placed so many protective charms and hexes upon it that there is no way that anybody could read it without my knowledge or permission. I even ventured into muggle London to obtain this journal to ensure that there was no chance of any prior enchantments or magic being in place on this journal.

(Although thinking back, truthfully, Moody would probably never have written any of these things down for anyone to read and would have most likely blamed any compulsion to write such a journal on dark wizards unknown. I can almost picture him shouting "Constant Vigilance!" while that disturbing eye of his zoomed around in all directions.)

I have not kept a journal since my second year at Hogwarts and it feels distinctly odd taking a quill to this paper and beginning one anew so many years later. However, I have learned to expect the un-expected and that in the blink of an eye that everything can change. Lives can end in moments. It is no doubt foolish of me, but I want to know that if I die tomorrow an account of my life post-Hogwarts will be written down for any who care to read it. I want there to be some legacy of myself left behind for those I care about. I want to be able to explain myself and my reasoning for the choices I have made.

There is no doubt in my mind that many of the choices I have made were the wrong ones. I do not entirely regret them, and I cannot lie and say that I repent. I accept full responsibility for these choices and my actions. I can only ask, dear reader, that you do not judge me until you have read this full account of my sordid affairs, and try not to judge me even then. After all, it is not your place to judge.

And so begins the account of Ginevra Weasley, Born August 11, 1981 …

I stood in the fogged up bathroom staring at my reflection in the misted mirror wondering how I had gotten myself into this mess in the first place. Clutching the towel tightly to my chest, I squeezed my eyes tightly together in another attempt to hold off tears. I couldn't help myself, tonight my melancholy mood refused to entirely leave me. Everything was just so messed up right now. It was entirely my fault. I could not, would not deny that truth. Not even in my own mind.

"Ginny, if you aren't out of that bathroom in five minutes I'm coming in there to use the loo even if you're still standing there while I piss."

"I'm coming," I laughed, "just keep your pants on."

"Don't deny it Weasley," Zambini replied, "you know you'd be sorely disappointed if I didn't end up naked tonight."

"Har Har Har," I replied sarcastically.

I quickly spelled my hair into a French braid that would last the night, thus ensuring that I would not have horrific bed head in the morning. My hair did some pretty crazy things when I went to bed with wet hair.

Blaise Zambini spent every other Saturday night at my flat. Surprisingly, he was an amazing cook, and most of the nights he came up I was treated to his brilliant cooking and papered ridiculously. I could almost always manage to get a back massage out of him on these nights. He had changed in many ways since our days at Hogwarts, or perhaps it was now that I finally knew and understood more of the many facets of Blaise's nature then I ever had before.

Regardless of the hows and whys of our mutually unforeseen friendship, we had nonetheless become startlingly close friends in the past five years since the downfall of Voldemort. I could honestly say that he knew me better than anyone else ever had. Blaise had also confided in me on several occasions that I also knew him better than any other person.

We spent these evenings' playing cards, drinking, and just talking for hours and hours. I had even collected a sizable amount of muggle games that we often played together as well. For most of the night we would do our best _not_ to tough one another, or tease one another, and usually failed miserably. I could not help but touch him as I past, or hold myself in a certain way that I knew he would find seductive.

And the nights, Merlin, the nights were the best I had ever had. He knew my body as no other ever had, and he knew how to make me come undone in ways that were too spectacular to be allowed, and I am quite sure were probably outlawed in some countries. He took my breath away. The nights that I spent in his arms were nights that I would never forget.

I felt his arms snake around my waist, pulling me against his body. His lips pressed themselves against my neck, and nibbled their way up to my ear, where he huskily whispered into my ear, "What do you say we give this up for tonight and get into bed?" I felt more then heard his deep laughter as I quickly whispered "Nox" and the lights went out.

I dropped the towel to the floor, and turned around in his arms. He pulled me against him and kissed me. Surprisingly, Blaise's kisses were tender and sweet, and while there was undeniable passion in them. Everything about him was gentle, rough was just not his style. I let him back me up towards the bed until I was laying down on it.

"Like what you see?" I challenged huskily, enjoying the way his eyes raked over my body.

"Merlin you are so sexy Ginny," he groaned in response.

He knelt down in front of the bed and spread my legs wide so that he could press his mouth to my center. His lips, tongue, and fingers played me to perfection. I shattered and was left shuddering before him within moments. He climbed on top of me and lay between my legs, kissing his way up my body. I wrapped my hands in his hair, writhing beneath him as he caressed and suckled my breasts and then my neck before returning his mouth to mine. I could taste myself on his lips.

Hours later, as dawn was approaching, we lay fully sated in each other's arms attempting to get some sleep. I was content to lay there wrapped within the circle of his arms as he slept beside me. It has been three years since the first time Blaise Zambini and I had sex for the first time. As wonderful as our friendship truly was, and as mind blowing as the sex had proven to be for both of us, we remained nothing more than just friends.

Have you made the connection? Have figured out the problem? I, Ginevra Weasley, have allowed myself to fall into the horrible category of a friend with benefits. It was never my intention to end up in this situation, and it was tearing me apart in side for so many reasons. Part of me still had deep set reservations about allowing myself to have sex with somebody who refused to make any commitments with me in regards to a real and lasting relationship. Part of me felt the shame of being able to designate myself as such a person.

But I needed him as I needed air. There were several facts that were undeniably true. I had fallen irrevocably in love with Blaise Zambini, and there was no denying that I was also a complete and total fool to have gotten myself in this position in the first place.

Blaise Zambini is commitment phobic. He refuses to admit to the fact that he and I are a couple for many reasons. If it weren't for the fact that I trust him completely without reserve, this relationship would be unbearably painful for me to endure. Even knowing that I could trust him completely I found myself on the verge of tears many days. It hurt, not being able to openly be his partner though in many ways I understood the reasons he gave me and the reasons that he would not admit, not even to himself.

I do not know how he feels about me in return. I do know that he finds me irresistible and that the sex is the best he has ever had, but in the eyes of a man how far does desire really go? The most I can get from him is that we will see where this goes. I dare not push him for more, and I dare not expect anything of him. If I push to hard I know that I will loose him due to his fears of commitment, and maybe even his fears of love. He has been in some rough places, and if I push he will leave.

I simply know that I wish to spend the rest of my life with him, in his arms. And I want the world to know that he is mine. For now though, I have a possibility of more if things go well, and a promise that I am the only woman in his bed. I cannot walk away from him, I need him too much and I think that perhaps he may need me as badly regardless of what he says. Or perhaps that is simply my being delusional.

Regardless, I know that I am his. Someday I hope to tell him how I feel, and someday I hope that he will return those feelings.

Author's Note:

I will have more chapters to this story, eventually. I'll be honest, I'm not the best about updating my stories regularly and I am still working on completing another HG/SS fic that is my priority. But I HAD to get this one written. It has been nagging me incessantly for months now.

If I get enough reviews however, I promise that I will update sooner! Please Review!

Blessings,  
>Raven<p> 


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